The Spider Who Made Bad Life Decisions That Turned Out Okay in the End
by Secret-H
Summary: Several highly unlikely and possibly out of character ways Peter ended up spending the rest of his life with a demi-god-frost-giant (Loki), and another way he spent it with someone else, but they still ended up bros. I actually kind of know where I'm going with this one.
1. Father & Son, 'Baby on a Fire Escape'

**MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo! Here I am again starting new things when I still have stuff that need to updated yesterday. But now I can blame it on college. Whoop, whoop! This really just serves to make me aware of how mediocre a writer I am. Don't know how they expect me to write a thesis.**

* * *

The thing is that, like many things in Peter's life, he didn't plan for this. It just happened, so he just went with it. And yeah, he knew Loki was a bad guy. Sure, the man had had his reasons, and from what Peter had heard and read Odin's parenting could only be described as A+ in the same ironic fashion as one should always say #yolo, but there are better ways to deal with ones anger/problems. Genocide has never been the answer, no matter how many times it's been tried.

Peter digressed, but he does that a lot.

The point is that he was aware that Loki was on the dark side, and it would take more than New York hotdogs to lure him away. That being said, Peter rather liked Loki, in a distant, bitchy friend way. That one that some might wonder why they hung out with, but invited them everywhere anyway. It was like a mixture a toned down Deadpool, time lord Mary Poppin, and how he imagined Kanye West might be like; which is to say, a sociopathic bag full of sassy cats.

Digression.

Peter was probably not the most responsible person in the world. He was sure that there were better people out there, people more capable, who could balance the responsibilities of being a hero and civilian life. Those who could hold a job, protect their family, and sustain a relationship. Pete only barely made do, struggling every step of the way. Even when things seemed to be looking up, life was ready and waiting to slap his ass down again.

Today was definitely going to be one of those days. You go to bed one night content with the thought everyone you cared for was alive, (even if most of them didn't remember your face,) and wake up the next morning with the baby of a super-villian-demi-god-frost-giant on your fire escape.

Peter sighed quietly. Baby Loki was already awake, staring up at him with bright green eyes that shined rather inhumanly in the morning sun. He knelt down to return the stare, and wondered if Loki could remember or even recognize him. A gummy smile told him that it was highly unlikely. Little Loki was swathed in what could only be actual animal fur cradled gently in a basket of straw, (possibly of some strange Asgardian version of wheat,) and leather, (probably from some strange Asgardian version of cows, or maybe a dragon,). Placed centerfold where his chest would be had not the only skin visible been his chubby disembodied face was small scrap of yellow parchment.

Peter chose to ignore the inquisitive coos of one baby mischief god to pick up the scrap with minimal contact. It was mostly blank, no heart wrenching missive by anyones's terms. It read, in painstakingly written chicken scratch:

_This is Loki_

_ Save Him _

Peter balanced precariously on the balls of his feet. Eyes closed to the world and this life changing problem wriggling in front of him, he considered. He considered the sun on his face and the wind in his hair. He considered the cost of the amount of costume repairs he made per week, and the amount of money he could save without them. He considered his run down apartment and the crappy jobs he couldn't keep to afford better. He considered power, responsibility, and a renewed secret identity. Tilting his head to the side, he considered a non-existent marriage and a lonely aunt.

He opened his eyes to the cutest face the side of Midgard and made a decision. The most responsible one if he did say so himself. With a nod to himself he lifted one baby Loki, staring him down, and was reward with a spit bubble. Awwwww.

Well, Peter Parker was not one to ever be misconstrued as responsible, and Aunt May had once told him that she was more than ready for grandchildren.

And what the actual fuck …it's not like he was ever going to have kids at this point anyway.


	2. Best Friends, 'Men in Libraries'

**MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooo ooooo! Merry Christmahanakwazaka, bitches and a Happy Holiday to all those who didn't have a story updated.**

**Hmmmm, not really sure about the time frame for this one. Before the invasion for sure, though it might just be a complete AU. I suppose it doesn't really matter, just know that Loki is on Earth, damaged, a little crazy, and a master of disguise. The form he is meeting Peter in is his normal one, but he still likes to cause trouble in with faces. It keeps him busy and entertained.**

**Somewhat open-ended, though I kind of want to make a small continuation of this one where Loki is Peter's sugar daddy, because the thought amuses me. We'll see.**

* * *

See, the thing is that Peter didn't know. It's not like he went out one day and said, "I'm going to become 'best friends' with a becoming-slowly-less-psychotic-but-no-less-damaged super villain." He hadn't had any plans at all that didn't include forcing himself to get up in the morning, making less than minimum wage doing something he loves under a guy he hated, saving some people, trying to study for his midterm, getting distracted by saving more people, and in the long run, failing his midterm.

He eventually did get distracted from his studying, but those poor people went unsaved. This is because that was the day he met Locke 'Lo' King, who would eventually take over his life in the best ways possible.

* * *

Moonlighting as a superhero: not all it's cracked up to be. As his much too loud alarm went off again, telling him that he was definitely going to regret hitting the snooze button so many times, Peter really contemplated changing his philosophy in life. Responsibility was for tools, and squares, and people with well paying jobs, that didn't live in decrepit apartments. Besides, he couldn't name one person in his life, (besides maybe Harry, but Harry is something else,) who has thought of him as being responsible since he got his handy, spidery new powers. But no win situations are what the life of Peter Parker was all about.

Every joint in his body creaked in audio with his mattress as he rose from bed. Eyes closed, he took a few seconds to nearly fall asleep standing up, before springing into action. As always, the best way to get out of neutral was do it all in one moment.

First, a shower, can't go to work covered in your own blood. No hot water, that's fine, he only had a few minutes anyway. Get dressed, making a mental note to do your laundry and get more cloth for another suit; hell, if he ever decided to quit as Spider-Man, he might be able to afford breakfast with all the money he dumped into his suit(s). As it were, no breakfast for Peter, which was good on some level of him wanting to feel a little less bad about himself, because he was five minutes from being late and had not even left the door yet.

Well, the window anyway. Onto the fire escape and into the air. Sorry random citizen, no time to save you today. Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man has to make enough money not to be evicted.

Well, maybe there's a little time.

* * *

As it turns out there was no time, and thus Peter Parker was fired from the Daily Bugle once again. Terrible stuff. After two minutes of talking to Betty about her cat, he found himself employed once more, and wondering why he even rushed in. But it's obviously because he is a good person, and there was nothing to do at home, anyway. Then out he was to save sections of New York from itself, take pictures himself in spandex like he was going to post them on Facebook, and maybe spy on the Avengers a little bit, but only because they were awesome beyond compare.

After stopping a couple small store robberies, one bank robbery, three muggings, and being shot at indiscriminately by the police, Spider-Man eventually called it a morning, leaving Peter to drop of his pictures to Jameson. Luckily, he makes enough to pay his rent _and_ get his first meal of the day. Yay.

One Double Whopper later, it was to the library, to learn everything on his syllabus that he had missed theses last three months of classes. Peter was sure his professors wouldn't even recognize his face at this point.

* * *

Peter ran his hand through his hair, completely unable to concentrate. It wasn't because he was hungry, he could easily ignore that. It was almost like his spider-sense. A constant buzzing on his consciousness, but it was really low level, as if it was unsure of the danger. Not that it mattered. If his spider-senses were acting up then it automatically meant that he had trouble one way or another. It was only a matter of finding out what was wrong before someone died, or he got a bad case of acne.

He sat at a large table alone, it was a Tuesday after all He glanced up every few words, eyes darting around the library for anything suspicious. Hopefully, it was a local thing and not another apocalypse, cause that would suck. At first glance, there was no one particularly suspicious. People in the library tended to be there for a specific reason, unless they were regulars, and Peter knew all of the regulars, at least on his floor. It was with that in mind that his eyes were drawn to a darkening corner. Which was weird in itself corners of the library were just not magically darker than the rest.

There was a man sitting at a single desk, and despite the fact that he was too big for it, he still seemed kind of small. He was attractive, (a wonderful mixture of pale skin and dark hair), a bit off putting, but mostly just kind of lonely looking. Peter would have been more sympathetic, if not for the fact that the instant his eyes settled on the man, his senses were suddenly very much there, aware, and feeling the fear. Hot guy was the danger, though in retrospect, Peter did not need spider-senses to guess that. A second later, he was staring into the greenest eyes he had ever seen, putting even MJ's to shame. He quickly looked down, pulling his book up to cover his face.

_Smooth moves, Pete. Not suspicious at all._ And yet now that the threat had been identified, he found his attention his own again. He even managed to finish a sentence before he glanced up again. Surprisingly or not surprisingly, Harry Potter/Malfoy lovechild was gone.

Peter had a very minor, inner freakout. There may have been some spazzing involved. He had only looked away for a moment, how could the guy have disappeared so quickly? Peter shoved his nose back into his text book, once again finding refuge behind the papery shield.

_Okay, Peter. You're freaking out for no reason at all. The guy didn't do anything wrong, and so what if he left? He doesn't live here. This is a library, no one lives here. Not even the librarians, Uncle Ben always said. Sure, you still have your suspicions about that, but the guy was definitely minding his own business. _And Peter was not going to be the kind if person that attacked people without provocation, just because they happened to be dressed in extremely color oriented and outstanding clothing and were at the wrong place at the wrong time and despite the fact that they were obviously saving lives and not mugging innocent bystanders no matter what was said about them in an clearly biased newspaper that they happened to, rather ironically, work at…

The point being: no judgment from Peter.

With a defeated sigh, Peter face-planted into the table. He mumbled to himself for some time, but was actually something of a struggle to breathe, so he turned his head to the side to once again meet the gaze of Harry/Malfoy guy. Who was sitting one seat away from him. _What the hell spider-sense? You had one job._

"You are quite amusing," the man said with a smirk, and what a voice. Peter suddenly developed a thing for accents. British ones. Nice, British ones.

"Um, yes. Hello." _Really, Peter? Smooth like butter._ Pete's head shot up so fast, he almost overturned his chair. He managed to balance himself on the hind legs, which was difficult to do but not too impossible or amazing. Luckily, other spider powers actually came in hand, even during everyday situations without the threat of death. Less luckily, as Peter would eventually learn, Lo' was a bag full of dicks. Gracefully and carelessly, he lifted a designer clad leg, using leather bound toes, and tipped the chair legs back.

Peter had a instant moment of warning, (thank you, spider-senses,) before he fell to the floor with a crash. Well, less of a crash and more of a thunk. He was more stunned than anything; what kind of person knocks over someone's chair after sharing less than a dozen words with them. Weren't British people supposed to be polite? His life was a lie.

And yet, when Harry Malfoy started to chuckle, looking down at him, seemingly way too delighted with his little prank, Peter couldn't fight the smile growing on his own face. What kind of smartass would he be if he couldn't laugh at himself?

Peter didn't bother trying to get up. He wasn't going to get anymore work done and view was pretty good. For a guy, the man had legs a mile long. Which should have been a weird thought, but that would be Peter's denial talking, and denial never really worked out for him well. "You know, if this was a movie, we would totally be best friends or the worst of enemies from this moment on."

"Oh, I am sure we could be even better than 'best friends'." The man murmured low, but looking pleased nonetheless. This time, Peter was given a, dare he say it, rakish grin, and a hand of assistance. Sometime between worrying about the sanity of a guy who smiled with both sets of teeth, his hand automatically reached up in acceptance.

In acceptance of what exactly, he wouldn't find out until later, but despite all of the strife that was to come, he could at least comfort himself with the thought that it wasn't a mistake.


End file.
